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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25029556">Minions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deyinel/pseuds/Deyinel'>Deyinel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Danny Phantom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Humor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:08:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>570</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25029556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deyinel/pseuds/Deyinel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Freakshow is out of prison and up to something dastardly! Oh, wait, he's just selling cereal. Well, I'm creeped out.</p>
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<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Minions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Minions<br/>Disclaimer: I don’t own Danny Phantom, he’s a free spirit! (Except he’s actually owned by someone else, but you know what I’m talking about.)<br/>	My brother and I found this quite amusing, what do you think?<br/>This oneshot was written because of the lovely little line in the “Control Freaks” episode. Upon hearing it my brother and I couldn’t stop laughing and we came up with this together. The original idea was his, and the writing and such is mine. Enjoy!</p><p> </p><p>“I love my minions!” – Freakshow, Danny Phantom.</p><p> </p><p>	Danny Fenton sat staring in abject horror at the television set which was resting on the kitchen counter in front of him. It took an awful lot to frighten him. He fought all manner of terrifying, decaying ghosts on a regular basis, without batting an eyelid, and was likely to face any threat with a witty remark and a confident smirk. This, however, was too much even for him.<br/>	The television’s screen displayed the tall, gaunt figure of Freakshow, newly out of prison on parole. The deranged ringmaster was displayed against a garish yellow background and was smiling so widely it looked as though his head might split in half at any moment.<br/>	As the appalled halfa watched, Freakshow held up a cardboard cereal box with a picture of a joyfully smiling ghost on the front. The specter was kneeling at Freakshow’s feet and offering a representation of the cereal in both ectoplasmic hands.<br/>	“Hello friends,” Freakshow said. “I am Freakshow, master of cereal! All of us dream of having minions to serve us, and now, you can! With my wonderful new cereal, you can fill your bowl with minions every morning!”<br/>	Danny felt like his brain was simultaneously trying to make sense of the insanity, and also throwing in the towel and trying to escape from his head altogether. His mouth was hanging open, a spoonful of fruit loops suspended half-way to that organ, and dripping milk gently onto the green table cloth. <br/>	On the television, Freakshow was pouring the cereal, which contained a lot of marshmallow ghosts of different colours, into a blue-patterned bowl. He added milk, and then once more turned his oh-so-creepy smile to the millions of viewers.<br/>	“I like to have my minions,” Freakshow continued. “They ‘serve’ my taste buds and my digestive system, and best of all…” He paused, than said with a flourish, “They never talk back!” Then he laughed, and Danny’s spoon fell from nerveless fingers.<br/>	“So remember,” Freakshow told the millions. “When you’re making your breakfast decisions, choose Freakshow’s Minions Cereal. It’s a great way to start your morning. I love my minions!” He wrapped his skinny arms around the box, and hugged it to his chest.<br/>	The commercial ended, and Danny fell out of his chair. <br/>Maybe this was some new plot. Maybe Freakshow was trying to infiltrate society again, or something. Maybe Danny would investigate it later. But right now all the fourteen-year-old boy could do was lie on the floor experiencing the worst case of the creeps within memory. He decided to stay on the kitchen floor for a few minutes. It seemed safer.</p><p> </p><p>	Pretty ridiculous, I know. Also, yes, it’s really short, but I didn’t want to drag it out too much for fear of losing the novelty and making it boring. Hope you enjoyed! Leave a review if you like and let me know what you think.</p>
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